


Dignity

by blackcloudsarebehindme



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Assisted Suicide, Cancer, Established Relationship, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcloudsarebehindme/pseuds/blackcloudsarebehindme
Summary: Connor had to learn when to say goodbye.





	1. Chapter 1

It started with headaches.

 

Connor had attributed them to work, to this case him and Hank had been trying to crack. Three people dead, and little to no leads. His head had pounded almost nightly, wracking against his skull like metal. Markus had been angel, constantly grabbing him water and giving him massages.

 

The pins and needles and stiff joints were just from sitting or running all day. Weak muscles were normal. The pain was normal.

 

It was just something he had to deal with. It was from the long days at work, it was the stress of the case. It wasn’t supposed to be this bad.

 

Then he’d collapsed in the studio, spilling paint everywhere, all over Markus’ work. The bright blue paint had stained Markus’ canvas as he stumbled over, his mind pounding in pain and everything fading to black.

 

Connor had told him not to worry through all the tests and X-rays. He was fine.

- 

 

“Cancer?” Markus choked out, looking at the doctor.

 

“Yes.” She said, sighing. She looked tired, like a woman who had to say this too many times. She pointed to the charts. “We found lymphomas along the spinal cord, and tumors in the frontal cortex of the brain.”

 

Markus shook his head, looking lost. “What...what can we do?”

 

“Well, we can start treatment as soon as possible, but it’s already in the late stages. We have a few different treatment plans available...”

 

Her words faded into the background. Connor felt...nothing. He felt so empty. His own body was turning against him, breaking down around him. Cancer.

 

He looked over to Markus. He was so devastated, but so determined. Taking all the pamphlets the doctor handed him, taking notes, asking about treatment. Connor only watched, seeing Markus’ mouth moved as he talked, but not hearing any words.

 

Just cancer.

 

Markus was holding his hand, running his thumb along the ridges of his knuckles. He was trying to reassure him. But Connor didn’t feel anything. Maybe he should feel angry. Or sad. Or something.

 

Just...cancer.

 

“How...” he spoke up, cutting off the conversation. He hadn’t meant to. He swallowed. “How long do I have?”

 

Markus flinched.

 

The doctor thought for a moment, and glanced back to the charts. “If you’re lucky, a year.”

 

They started talking again, but Connor couldn’t hear. He only looked out the window as the rain fell, and felt Markus squeeze his hand.

 

A year.

 

-

 

They got back in the car, the rain dripping from their clothes onto the seats. Connor leaned away from Markus, watching Detroit through the window of the passenger side.

 

“I’m sorry about the painting.” Connor said, glancing over to Markus. Markus has spent weeks working on that piece. The ring on his finger reflected dimly in the pale light.

 

Markus shook his head. “Do you really think that’s what I’m worried about right now?”

 

Connor looked back out the window.

 

-

 

Markus always wanted to talk about it. Wanted to plan treatment, wanted to meet new doctors, wanted to research. Connor didn’t want to talk about it. Markus spent hours on the phone, writing down addresses and information. Connor spent hours doing nothing on the couch, looking over the binders he had planned for their wedding, petting Sumo. His head was pounding.

 

Markus sat next to him on the couch, holding open his planner. Dates for openings for his artexhibits and auctions were scratched out.

 

“The first session of chemo starts next week, on Tuesday.” He said, jotting it down in thick, black ink. “Have you talked to Fowler?”

 

“I don’t want to do chemo.” He said quietly, running his hands through Sumo’s fur.

 

Markus stopped. “What?”

 

Connor looked away. “I don’t want to do chemo.” He’d seen it all happen before.

 

“Connor...” Markus said. “This is our best chance.”

 

Connor shook his head.

 

“So...you’re not even going to try?” Markus scoffed. “You’re just going to give up?”

 

“I’m not giving up.” Connor snapped back.

 

“Then what’s the plan, Connor?” Markus raised his voice.

 

“I don’t know, okay? But it’s not that. I won’t do it.” God, his head hurt.

 

Markus shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Chemo...chemo ruins people, Markus. It breaks them down until they have nothing left.” Connor said. “Maybe it will give me another year or so. But at what cost?”

 

“I don’t want to do nothing!” Markus choked out. “I’m not just gonna sit by and watch!” He stood, and turned away from him. Connor knew he hated it when Connor saw him cry.

 

Connor sighed. “I don’t know what to do Markus.”

 

Markus turned back. “Can’t we just try?” He picked up the pamphlets; brightly colored and full of pictures of happy families. “The doctor said this could help...”

 

Connor shrugs. He feels so fucking empty.

 

Markus sits next to him again. “Please, Connor. If not for you, then for me.” He pleaded. Connor looked up at him, saw his broken face and his eye bags and his pain. Connor nods slightly, taking the cyan pamphlet from Markus.

 

He would try.

 

-

 

Chemo was hell.

 

He felt like his whole body was on fire. He could barely move a lot of the time. His legs were getting more numb each day. His hands shook. His head still pounded on and on, like a hammer against his skull.

 

Markus was so hopeful. Driving him every week, holding his hand, encouraging him. Smiling when the pain got too much for Connor. Getting more and more heartbroken when the results didn’t look good.

 

He was an angel.

 

-

 

Chemo wasn’t helping.

 

He crawled into bed, his body a painful, damned mess, letting the soft comfort of the sheets and blankets consume him. It had only been a few weeks, but he was only getting worse.

 

Was this gonna be how he spent the rest of his life?

 

He watched as Markus washed his face in the bathroom, the tension heavy in his back and shoulders. He didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

 

As the lamp by their bedside was turned off, and the moon shone in through the window, Connor couldn’t take it anymore.

 

“No more, Markus.”

 

Markus turned over, the light barely making out his features.

 

“It hurts so much.”

 

Connor couldn’t look at him. Tears welled in his eyes.

 

“Please.”

 

Markus’ hands rubbed along his shoulders and his back. His fiancé pulled him close, holding him against his chest.

 

“Okay.” Is all he said, and Connor cried into his shirt.

 

-

 

Connor felt a little stronger.

 

He walked along the gravestones, the Lieutenant right by his side. His partner was silent, the only sound the crunching of the leaves as they walked.

 

Connor stopped at a stone tablet, cold and stoic in the cemetery. Just like his mother had been. Amanda Stern, engraved into the stone, seemed to glare at him.

 

Chemo had broken her too. Connor remembered the endless beeping if the machines, the last sounds he had ever heard from her. She had once been a force of nature, a powerful and disappointed figure in his life until he had cut her out of his life. Where she had been a machine in life, she was so human in death. Painful and slow. Despite everything she had done to him, he had stayed by her side.

 

He didn’t want that for himself.

 

“Markus and I are meeting with a doctor soon.” He said.

 

The Lieutenant sighed gruffly. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

 

“I know.” He remembered how weak his mother’s hand was in his. “But I don’t have any other choice.”

 

“Connor-“

 

“The symptoms of late-stage spinal cord cancer include paralysis and horrendous pain. Symptoms of late-stage brain cancer include seizures, loss of memory, and plenty more.” Connor looked over at Hank, his headache a constant reminder of his health. “I don’t want that.”

 

“I know.” Hank said. “I don’t want that for you either.”

 

The silence between them was deafening. Hank had already buried a son before. Connor was asking him to do it again.

 

“I wanted you to know, Hank... you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. A real parent, even.” Connor felt his throat constrict. He’d already cried so much. “So...thank you.”

 

Hank hugged him.

 

-

 

“Lets get married.”

 

Markus looked up from where he was reading. He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

Connor fiddled with the ring on his finger, the silver metal glinting in light. “I know I’ve spent months trying to plan the perfect wedding, but...it doesn’t matter now. I just want to get married.”

 

Markus smiled. “There’s a reason I asked you, you know.”

 

Connor couldn’t help but smile back. “I know.”

 

Markus stood, and took Connor’s hands in his. “I like that idea. How does Vegas sound?”

 

“Sounds perfect.”

 

-

 

“Do you, Markus Manfred, take Connor Stern to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

Markus looked so stunning in his suit, smiling like fool in the Chapel O’ Love in Las Vegas. The had cheesy heart necklaces on and neon pink lighting, and, God, it was so jarring and bright, but it was perfect. Connor laughed.

 

He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

 

“I do,” Markus said, squeezing his hand.

 

The woman officiating the ceremony smiled brightly and clapped her hands together. “And do you, Connor Stern, take Markus Manfred to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do.” Connor felt tears welling in his eyes. God, he loved him.

 

“Then, by the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I know pronounce you husbands. You may kiss your groom.” She winked.

 

Connor took Markus’ face in his hands, kissing him hard. Markus pulled him close, an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. A bottle of champagne was popped, heart-shaped balloons fell from the arch, and Connor couldn’t be happier. He was here, alive, with his husband.

 

His husband.

His husband.

His husband.

 

-

 

His husband rubbed his back as he threw up.

 

He was getting worse. Walking was harder and harder, to the point Markus had to carry him up and down the stairs. The pain was almost unbearable at times. His head spun and spun like a carousel and he couldn’t stop it.

 

They had met with a doctor. He had approved the medicine. They just had to schedule a day.

 

Markus rubbed his back in soothing circles. Connor collapsed on the bathroom floor, the tile nice and cool against his sweaty skin. Markus sat down next to him.

 

“I don’t have much longer.” Connor said. “I’m only getting worse.”

 

Markus didn’t say anything.

 

“Maybe the end of November?” He asked.

 

Markus didn’t say anything.

 

Connor swallowed. “I don’t know.”

 

“I don’t want you to go.”

 

Connor looked up. Markus was staring at the tile, distant.

 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Connor crumpled. He didn’t want to go either. He didn’t. He wanted to live.

 

“I’m sorry-“ He choked out.

 

“No, don’t.” Markus shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. This...I just wish...”

 

Connor curled into himself, watching the tears fall from Markus’ eyes.

 

“I just wish we had more time.”

 

-

 

Death with dignity. That’s what they called it.

 

The day Connor was meant to die, he was happy. Maybe he shouldn’t be. He didn’t know.

 

The sun was poking in through the curtains, just barely over the horizon. It made the room glow a soft blue, the light tracing Markus’s frame in the space next to him.

 

His last sunrise.

 

He lightly touched Markus’ face, seeing how peaceful he was as he slept. Markus’ eyes fluttered open at his touch, the blue and green focusing on him. He smiled.

 

“Good morning.”

 

They walked with Sumo, talking about anything and everything. The sky was grey and cloudy, and most people were sticking to their houses. It would probably snow tonight.

 

Connor took slow breaths in and out, enjoying the feeling of his lungs breathing. He made sure to take an extra long look at everything. He indulged himself on coffee and a scone. He was at peace.

 

-

 

For Markus the whole day felt like a ticking bomb. The deadly powder stood on their counter, just waiting and waiting to be consumed. He hated it, wanted nothing more than to throw it away and tell Connor that he could beat it.

 

But he knew he couldn’t.

 

It was already too late. He needed to enjoy the time he had with him now. Every second was one second less with the man he loved more than anything.

 

Soon, the sun was setting. The went out to the river, bundled up in the hats and scarves, watching the golden pink reflect across the waves. He watched Connor the whole time, his eyes happy and bright as he said goodbye to the world.

 

They went home, had dinner, mindlessly pretending that by tomorrow Connor would be dead. Markus’s hands shook as he ate. He wanted to scream.

 

Minutes passed. Hours passed. Markus didn’t know.

 

“I’m ready.” Connor said, and Markus’ heart stopped.

 

He prepared the drink, a cup of hot cholesterol to mix in with the powder. Apparently people said it tasted bitter. Not like you could ask them.

 

Connor sat on their bed, Sumo laying on his legs. It probably hurt, but Connor wouldn’t complain. It wouldn’t hurt for long.

 

Some one the hot chocolate spilled when Markus handed Connor the mug. Damn his hands.

 

Markus climbed under the covers, sitting up and watching. Waiting.

 

Connor stared down into the brown liquid. He smiled.

 

“I thought I’d be scared. But I’m not.”

 

Markus swallowed. He couldn’t cry. This is what Connor wanted.

 

“I’m happy.”

 

He covered his mouth as a sob escaped.

 

“Markus...”

 

“I’m sorry-“

 

“Markus.” Connor’s hands grabbed his. “I’m okay. I’m happy.”

 

“I know.” Markus said, blinking rapidly. “I don’t want you to be in pain. But I don’t want you to leave me. I felt like...I waited my whole life for you. And now you’re going to die and I-“

 

Connor looked down at their joined hands. “I know. I spent so much of my life working. Trying to be perfect. And now all that’s for nothing.”

 

“It’s not fair.” Markus spit out.

 

“This is what I want.” Connor said, more firmly.

 

“I know!” Markus pulled his hands away. “But...I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. And now I can’t.”

 

“You’re a good man, Markus.” Connor said. “You’re giving me the best thing I could ever ask for. To be able to go happily, with you. You’re giving me the chance to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 

Markus looked away, sniffing back his tears.

 

“It hurts so much, Markus. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

 

Markus sighed. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

 

There was silence for a moment, and then Markus watched as Connor drank the chilled drink. Connor gave a ragged few breaths, wiping his mouth.

 

It was done. He was going to die.

 

Markus took the mug from Connor’s hands, setting it down on the night stand.

 

“Where do you want to be?” Markus asked.

 

“Just here.” He said. “Just hold me.”

 

Markus lied back and pulled Connor into his arms. Connor rested his head against his chest. A few minutes passed, the poison no doubt entering his body. He’d fall asleep soon.

 

“Talk to me.” Connor whispered, watching the ceiling.

 

Markus didn’t know what to say. “I...I’m going to miss you, Connor. You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life. I...I used to be so lost. You gave me hope again. You made me the happiest I’ve ever been.” He brushed his hands through Connor’s hair. “Even though you’re leaving, I know you’ve given me the fullest life I could of had. I would give anything...anything for you to be okay. For you to stay. But I understand. I do.” He kisses Connor’s head. His eyes were closed. He was sleeping, now.

 

“I don’t want to lose you. God, why did to have to be you. I love you so much, Connor. I love you so much and I can’t... I can’t do this without you. Please.” He gripped Connor tighter, pulling him closer. Connor didn’t wake up.

 

-

 

Markus blinked awake.

 

It was morning now. He must have fallen asleep.

 

Connor was still in his arms. He shifted, and Connor limply followed. Markus shook him slightly.

 

“Connor?”

 

Connor didn’t wake up.

 

-

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Thank you for coming.”

 

The words repeated in an seemingly endless cycle all day. It was a snowy day in mid-December when they put Connor in the ground. Well, the box of his ashes that Markus had refused to put down for weeks.

 

It was the closest thing to holding him again.

 

There was a small wake at the house. People were dressed nicely, and all the officers had come in their uniforms. There was brotherhood among them over losing Connor- even Gavin seemed to be in mourning.

 

Markus gave another painful smile as the last of the guests left. He needed to start cleaning up. Ugh. He fiddled with his wedding ring as he walked, trying to keep track of all the things he needed to do. Kara offered to help him, but he refused. He needed to work. If he stopped, he’d start thinking again, and that was never good.

 

Markus stepped over Sumo, who was lying on the ground. He seemed to know that Connor wasn’t coming home. He hadn’t been able to go on a walk for weeks. Neither had Markus.

 

Markus started collecting glasses and plates from around the living room, trying to ignore the slide show of Connor’s photos Josh had put together in his memory. The clink if a glass caught Markus’ attention, and he looked up to see the lights in his studio flicker on.

 

He walked over and saw Lieutenant Anderson in the studio, quietly sipping a glass of whiskey. He looked uncomfortable in his formal uniform, with his beard trimmed and hair cut. His hat was tucked under his arm. He was stuck in front of a large piece of canvas near the back wall. Markus stood next to him silently, looking at the piece.

 

“That was a beautiful eulogy.” Markus said. “Thank you for giving it. I don’t think I could of.”

 

Hank nodded toward him. “No problem, kid. I’m pretty used to giving them.”

 

Damn. Markus hadn’t even considered how much Hank had already lost. Grief made everyone selfish.

 

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I know you and Connor were close.” Connor had known Hank far longer than Markus had known Connor. They had been partners ever since Connor had been assigned to the DPD.

 

Hank smirked. “I think you can, Markus.” He coughed, and swirled his whiskey. “But yeah...Today was tough. To be honest with you...it was like burying my son all over again.”

 

Markus sighed and shook his head. “If you need anything-“

 

“No.” Hank said firmly. “None of that. You and Connor had something...had a love I haven’t seen in a long time. You need time to heal, for you. If _you_ need anything, I’m here.”

 

“Hank-“

 

“Connor made me promise before he left that I’d watch out for you.” Hank smiled, his eyes glossy. “And I intend to keep that promise. Hope you don’t mind me hanging around here for a little bit. But Connor made certain that you didn’t have a choice.”

 

Markus laughed. It was so like Connor. He twisted his wedding ring again. “Thanks.”

 

They stare at the painting.

 

“You know...” Markus spoke, his voice scratchy. “I thought that I’d be ready for this. After Carl died I thought I could take anything. But losing Connor...the one person I never thought I’d have to say goodbye to....I’m...I’m lost. I just don’t know why...”

 

“No one fuckin knows. But in life, you can’t help the cards you’re dealt. You just have to play your hand.” Hank sighed. “Connor lived every day like it was his last, and when it was his time to go, he went. Takes a hell of a man to do that.”

 

Hank stepped away. “Connor was happy, Markus. And, fuck. Isn’t that everything?”

 

He left the room.

 

Markus let himself cry again, even though all he’d been doing for the last few months was cry. He stares at the portrait again, the one he never finished. Connor’s smiling, laughing at him, frozen in time forever, and half of his face is blank canvas. But his eyes are there, looking at him.

 

He wondered what Connor would tell him.

 

-

 

“Merry Christmas.” He said to the stone. “And Happy Hanukkah. I know I’m late. I’m sorry.”

 

-

 

“Hi.” He said. “Hank says I visit you too often. Maybe I do. Sumo went on a walk again finally. He misses you. I miss you.”

 

-

 

“The DPD named a street after you.” He said. “I thought you’d want to know.”

 

-

 

“I never believed in this heaven or hell stuff before.” He said. “But I hope you’re there, in heaven. I hope you can still hear me.”

 

-

 

“I tried painting again.” He said. “I couldn’t.”

 

-

 

“Happy Birthday.” He said, placing the gift against the grave. “You would have been 30 today.”

 

-

 

“Sorry I haven’t visited in a while.” He said, leaning against it. “I don’t want...I don’t know. I’ve been doing okay, lately. Good even. Not that I want you to think that I’m fine without you, because I’m not. I’m not.”

 

-

 

“Hank says I visit you too often.” He said. “He’s right. But I think this may be the last one...in a while.” He looked back to the car. “I don’t want you to think I’ve moved on, Connor. I won’t ever stop loving you, but...I think maybe you would have wanted this for me. I don’t know. Just...I love you.”

 

-

 

The painting is hung up, still unfinished. But it’s happy.

 

And, fuck, isn’t that everything?


End file.
